Reality Bites
by Adalind
Summary: Another one of my AU fics; one for the Bailey fanclub. Ranger has problems, a hell of a lot of problems, & a very bad day. Actually, I think I broke him. Don't worry, I put him back together again too. It's not a happy fic & Steph fairs pretty badly.
1. Chapter 1

_**Reality Bites**_

_**Chapter One**_

_**Ranger POV – Rangeman Trenton 9AM**_

_**Robin's Lester POV Challenge. Opening italics mostly from Robin's fic 'Free Willy.'**_

_**Robin set the challenge to use Lester POV in the stakeout in her fic. Steph was looking for a guy who'd had his 4ft willy garden statue impounded and he hadn't paid the fine. This short fic is set kind of in my odd AU world crossed with Robin's Anthony universe. I think it will make sense when you read it. Bailey works in Boston like in AFILAW, but with Anthony, Ranger, Tank, Bobby and Les knowing about her existence – so maybe set about 4 years after Better the Devil.(I think you could say that this is set at the same time as AFILAW, but in an alternate universe. Ya'll still with me, ladies?) Bobby and Lester are also a couple in this, yet totally in the closet, but Ranger has his suspicions. Steph is a little OOC in this fic, but I had to do this to make things work and I don't really care anyway. This in all honesty started out as another one of my famous 2 part fics. Well, we all know what happens to them, don't we?**_

_I looked across the breakfast table at sleepy, morning sex tousled Stephanie and asked her what she had on deck for the day._

_Steph poked a finger at the stack of FTA files next to her plate and said, "I'm gonna stake out this guy's shop. Should be an easy pickup. He's not violent or anything, just stupid."_

_"Do you need back-up?" Lula and Tank were out of town for a few days. Their romance had heated up considerably after Lula found a good allergy doc. Armed with high dose Claritin, Tank's feline menagerie didn't bother Lula...and Tank had regained his appeal in her eyes._

_But let's not dwell._

_Whatever. The point is, I was short of my own backup man and so was Steph. But I had a very important meeting all day in Boston, so..."What's the exact charge?" I asked._

_"Ah. Um." First pink blush creeping up her throat. Interesting. Won't meet my eyes. "Hadlow, Jason; Caucasian, age 39. No priors...Picked up for LLB," read Steph from the file._

_"LLB?"_

_"Lewd and lascivious behavior, public indecency."_

_"He's a flasher?"_

_"No, um...no. And he had a fine to pay but he refused, jumped bail. Word is he's back at his art and decor for the garden shop almost every day. So, I'll just do some stakeout thing, see if he turns up."_

_So far I wasn't at all sure what the guy did, just that Stephanie was too embarrassed to tell me in exact words. You'd think after the night we just had-and this morning...plus our shower just now-well. But you never know. And backup is essential, I don't care how routine a pickup seems, shit can happen. I said, "I have to go to Boston, babe. Take Lester, okay."_

_"Nooooo!" Her face got pinker._

_"You and Les have a problem?" I asked._

_"Nooooo! But, well, please, Ranger!"_

I raised an eyebrow. What was wrong with her taking Lester?

Steph squirmed in her seat. "Besides, I thought Lester had the day off."

"Late shift," I corrected. "And Bobby's on nights, well until Tank comes back, anyway."

"I can't take Lester with me. Ranger, please! Can't you come with me?"

"No can do, babe, I have to go to Boston."

Steph pouted. "Fine, I'll go by myself. It's only a teeny bit of surveillance anyway; can't see there being any problems."

I sighed. "Babe, I have years of training, but I still take back up out in the field with me. Take Lester, please."

"It's because I'm a woman, isn't it?" she said with a glare.

Crap, she was pulling out the big guns now. All I wanted was for her to be safe, I couldn't care less that she was female; I'd have expected any of my men to take back up with them on the job, Bailey included. "No babe, it has nothing to do with you being a woman. If I was sending Bailey out on this job I'd expect her to take back up too."

Steph looked up from the files and nailed me with a sharp look. "Who's Bailey, Ranger?"

Fuck! Okay, keep it simple, Manoso. "Independent contractor who sometimes works for Rangeman."

"Bailey is a woman?" Steph pressed.

I nodded.

She frowned. "I didn't think we had any women in the field in any of the offices. Which office did you say that she worked out of?"

"I didn't. Look, I don't see what she has to do with your surveillance gig; I'm going to call Lester for you," I asserted as I pulled my cell from my pocket.

Steph shoved her chair back from the table and stood, hands on hips. "Fine, if you think I can't be trusted."

I bit back a groan.

"Oh, and aren't you getting changed if you have a meeting?" she questioned as she took in my standard Rangeman black cargos and t-shirt.

"Not that sort of meeting, babe," I replied as I hit speed dial #4 on my cell. Shit, after the cluster fuck so far this morning, telling her I was going to Boston to see Bailey was not a good idea. Besides, Steph didn't need to know about some of the darker sides to my business. I also wasn't sure how well she would react if she found out I was off to pay a crazy Irish woman - who had up until recently been in and out of my bed, a large sum of money to clean up a little problem for me.

Lester's cell rang a couple of times before it was picked up.

"What?" Bobby groused.

It didn't take a genius to work out why Brown was answering Lester's cell at some crappy hour in the morning. I hadn't asked, but it was obvious to me what was going on between the two of them. Still, they both lived over at the secure warehouse just off Stark and what they did outside of company time was their own business – it had just surprised me a little, as I'd never thought that either of them were that way inclined sexually.

"Lester there?" I asked.

"Hang on a sec," he murmured sleepily. I'd probably just woke him up after a hour of sleep.

"Boss?" Lester said with a yawn.

"Need you to go on surveillance with Steph this morning."

Lester groaned. "Why me? I'm not on until 16.00.

"Because I told you to. Who else do you want me to ask?"

"You," he said hopefully.

"Going to Boston."

"Oh shit, I forgot about that fuck up," Lester muttered. "Hey, I don't mind going to Boston; I haven't seen Bailey in ages."

I smiled. "The last time you went to Boston you were gone for four days, dyed your hair bright red and got your dick pierced. I think that is more than enough of a reason why you and Bailey can't be trusted together, Santos."

"You have no sense of fun, cousin," Lester teased. "Okay, give me twenty to get some coffee down me and I'll come and pick Steph up, okay?"

"Fine."

"And give my regards to Bailey," he said with a laugh before he hung up.

I snapped my cell shut and looked around for Steph; she was nowhere in sight. "Steph?" I called out.

No answer. I finally tracked her down to our bedroom. "I need to head out, babe; it's a long drive. Don't wait for me at dinner, just get Ella to cook something for you; I don't know what time I'll be back, probably very late. Lester will be over in half an hour, okay?"

She pulled her hair into a sloppy pony tail and tossed her gun into her pocket book. "What's this meeting about, Ranger?"

Why wouldn't she let this go? I sat down on the end of the bed and sighed. "You know that there are some things I can't tell you, right?"

Steph nodded.

"Well, this is one of those times."

"Were you can't tell me what's going on, yeah?"

I shrugged. "Mostly, but also because I won't tell you as you don't need to know." And she didn't need to know that I was hiring an assassin to do some dirty work on behalf of some shady government department that, if push came to shove, didn't exist. She also didn't need to know that said assassin was my ex lover. Bailey and I had an understanding about our relationship and she knew that I was living with Steph now. Shit, the last thing I'd heard was that she was back in Anthony's bed anyway. Bailey had never been my girlfriend, she'd just been a… a good fuck. But I hoped to hell Bailey never heard me say that about her; I liked my balls just where they were.

Steph bristled. "You don't trust me?"

I stood up swiftly and grabbed a hold of her hand. "No! I mean yes, it's not like that Steph, I promise. It's just that… It's just that there are some aspects of my job that go beyond morally right and legally grey and this is one of those times. The less you know the better, trust me."

She bit her lip and I hugged her to me. "This has nothing to do with how I feel about you, babe. I love you and I trust you, I just don't want you to think any less of me because of some of the things I have to do."

"Tell me," she whispered.

"I can't, babe."

Steph pushed away from me gently. "I don't care what you do, Ranger, it won't make me feel any differently about you."

"Good to hear," I responded as I headed into the closet to my gun safe. It didn't hurt to be packing for bear when visiting Bailey, as you could never predetermine what sort of mood she would be in. The girl carried four guns and three knives on a good day, and after four years I still didn't know what she kept in the weapons crates that were stacked up at the foot of her bed. Okay so I admit it, the girl unnerved me a little and I didn't want to be caught flat footed.

"Ranger?"

I glanced around at Steph; she was leant against the closet door jamb. "Yeah?"

"Who's Bailey?"

I stashed an extra knife in my boot. "I told you already, an independent contractor who sometimes works for Rangeman."

"Does she work in Boston?"

Huh? "Why do you ask?"

"You commented to Lester about the last time he went to Boston and it sounded like he met Bailey there."

I slid a knife into a sheath at my wrist, stashed both Glocks in my shoulder rig, then slid a Browning at the small of my back and blew out a sigh of frustration. "Yes Bailey lives in Boston, yes I am going to see her today, and no I am not sleeping with her. Happy now?"

"Why didn't I know about her?" Steph pressed. "I mean I know everyone else who works for Rangeman."

"Because she doesn't exist, she's a spook; only myself and a hand full of guys know about her. Don't make a big deal out of this, Stephanie, and please don't talk about her to anyone," I gritted out as I tried to reign in my temper. Ricardo Carlos Manoso, the cool calm and collected was being steadily worn down daily by Steph's constant barrage of questions, and it was starting to give me a headache. Yeah, I needed to get out of here for the day and blow some cobwebs out of my head on the interstate in my new Porsche.

"Fine," she muttered.

I stared at her and tried to work out what was bugging her. Why was she so obsessed about Bailey? "Are you jealous?"

"What? No!"

I grinned and stepped up to her. "Sound like you are jealous, babe."

"I…"

I dropped a kiss on her forehead. "You have nothing to worry about; I just have to go see a very dangerous person about a very dangerous situation. Simply business, I promise."

Steph nodded, though she didn't seem to buy what I was saying. "What does she look like?"

I cocked my head to one side and thought of Bailey and how best to describe her. "Short, dark haired, tattooed and scary."

"Lesbian?"

I coughed, so not going there, babe; nice try though. "No, definitely not a lesbian."

"How do you know?"

I shook my head, headed for the door and decided on the partial truth. "Because I caught her fucking Anthony once, that's why. Look I'll see you later, and wait for Lester, babe."


	2. Chapter 2

For Robin. Thank you for both the challenge and the title.

**Reality Bites**

**Chapter Two**

**Lester POV – Rangeman Secret Warehouse, Stark Street Trenton 9.15AM**

"What did the boss want?" Bobby murmured sleepily as I tossed my cell back on the night stand.

"Needs me to go Bombshell sit for the day," I replied as I dropped a swift kiss on his lips and rolled out of bed.

Bobby stretched and groaned. "Does that mean my hot water bottle is leaving me?"

"'Fraid so, love. You wanna go back to sleep, or do you want a coffee?"

"What time is it, Les?"

"Just gone nine."

"You can fuck off and let me go back to sleep, that's what," he muttered acerbically as he pulled the pillow over his head."

I rolled my eyes and pulled a fresh pair of black cargos from the dresser. "You think if we came out of the closet Ric would give us shifts were we might actually see each other?"

"That sadist?" came the muffled reply, "I doubt it. And as much as I love you, Lester, would you please fuck off."

"Fine, fine, I'm going; sleep well."

"I will if you leave me alone," Bobby snarled.

I rolled my eyes, grabbed a work t-shirt and a pair of socks and retreated to the kitchen. It wasn't until I actually started living with Bobby that I realized that he was so not a morning person. Don't get me wrong, I didn't think much of them either, but I certainly was not a grouchy bastard until I'd had four cups of coffee and a scalding hot shower like Bobby. Still, at least I wasn't the poor fool stuck on graveyard shift with nothing to occupy my time but hours of dull monitor screens and Ranger's left over paperwork for a change.

The middle shift had its perks, that was for sure. And if you were clever you could sneak take out dinner into the control room and the smell would have just about dissipated by the time Ranger got back on deck the following morning.

I pulled my shirt on and made some coffee all the while thinking about the time Manny, Zero and I ate take out curry in Ranger's office one evening just for shits and giggles. There was no evidence left behind, but Ranger had spent the entire day with a bemused look on his face. He'd hauled both Tank and Bobby into his office and asked if they could smell something, and in the end he'd got a contract cleaning crew in to deep clean his office.

To my knowledge he'd never found out what had really gone down, but I did end up on the night shift unexpectedly. When I'd asked him about the rota he'd simply said that something suspicious had been going on, and he'd had no doubt that I was behind it. Bastard. Okay, so he'd been right, but that time he'd had no evidence. I'd had to plan my pranks a little more carefully after that, as baiting my cousin was one of the highlights of my life. Shit, I'd been making his life a misery since I was old enough to walk; why stop now?

Still, it didn't matter what I'd done or not done right now, as I was still stuck on Steph watch. Why couldn't Ranger stay in Trenton and play the over protective boyfriend while I got to hang out with Bailey? The girl kicked ass, but she was a slightly bad influence on me. It was true, I had sort of gone AWOL the last time I'd been sent to Boston. But it wasn't my fault; Bailey had made me drink the tequila and Absinthe, and then dared me to get my dick pierced.

Yet that didn't explain why Ranger had gone over there today. Ever since he'd shacked up with Steph he'd been giving his ex a wide berth, and sent Tank, Bobby or myself over there to play messenger. I knew the job details as well as any other member of the team, shit even Anthony could have gone to see her, and from what I'd heard from Bones, Mr. Gossip himself, Anthony seemed to be spending a lot of time in Boston again. I wonder if she'd ever done both of… Okay, don't go there, bad metal image.

Don't get me wrong, Bailey is cute, but she's a total fucking psychopath. We all breathed a collective sigh of relief when she took Abruzzi out with a clean hit. She is very good at her job, but she can get a little, how can I put it? Creative, yeah that's the best way to describe it in polite company, and Anthony and Ranger are just about bad ass and nuts enough to handle her.

Which brought me back to Ranger's visit to Boston; I mulled things over as I fixed my coffee and finished getting dressed. Just what was he doing there? Strange things were afoot at the Circle-K that was for sure.

* * *

I let myself into Ranger's apartment and spied Steph sitting at the breakfast bar. "Morning beautiful."

She looked up from her plate of pancakes and glowered at me. "I don't need your help so you can go now. I'm sorry that you had to come over here for nothing."

Man, she was in a shitty mood today. "Sorry love, where you go, so do I."

Steph set her fork down with a clatter. "I need to go to the mall later to buy some new underwear, and I'm also out of tampons."

I shrugged, pulled up a stool at the bar and helped myself to some coffee. "Whatever you want, darlin'."

"And I meet my grandmother for lunch too," she announced.

If that was the best she could come up with to get rid of me then she didn't have a hope in hell. Shit, this was going to be fun. "You want some codeine for your cramps? I'm sure Ric has some stashed somewhere around here. If not I can always go get some from the medical room. Man, if they're that bad then maybe you should get Bobby to check you over," I said while I maintained my carefully perfected blank face.

She shot me her death glare and stomped off into the bedroom. Cramps, my ass; if that woman was on her period then my name wasn't Lester Santos. I left her to her hissy fit and munched my way through the left over pancakes; there was no sense in letting Ella's cooking go to waste.

Ten minutes later Stephanie finally reappeared, pocket book slung over her shoulder and the bad attitude still in residence. "You ready to go?" I asked as I put down the morning's paper.

"Whatever," she muttered as she stalked towards the apartment door.

"So, where first, Steph?"

"Stake out. And I'm driving."

I followed her to the lift. "Okay, yes to the first, but no to the second, doll."

"What?"

"A stake out is fine, but I'm driving."

Steph stabbed at the elevator call button viciously. "Why?"

I shrugged. "My wheels, I drive. And besides, if you think I'm spending more than five minutes cramped up in that Nova of yours then you've got another thing coming."

She put her hands on her hips, but I cut her off before she could even work up to ranting at me. "My truck is comfy, it has A/C, a decent stereo, cup holders, room for a skip in the back and doesn't have holes in the floor boards. I'm only thinking of you, Steph," I finished smoothly.

"Fine."

"Cool, so who's our FTA then?"

"Jason Hadlow."

"What did he do?"

Steph blushed. Very interesting.

"He didn't get his dick out at the beauty salon like that guy you had last month, did he?" You could never tell with her skips.

She shuddered. "Thankfully no."

"Pissed on Officer Gaspick?"

"No."

"Come on Steph, help me out here."

She got in the elevator and I followed hot on her heels.

"He just didn't pay a fine, that's all," she replied cryptically.

"So what was this fine for that's making you blush, beautiful?" I quizzed as I stepped up to her.

She backed into the corner and I followed. With my hands planted on either side of her face and my body pressed up very close to hers she looked like she was about to go into melt down. "What did he do?" I whispered in her ear.

"He…" she gasped as I bit her ear lobe.

"Yes?" I purred.

"They confiscated it and he didn't pay the fine," Steph managed.

I bit down on her ear lobe again and she gripped onto my shoulders for support. Not long now. "What's _it_, babe?"

"His penis,"

What the fuck? I backed away slightly. "His what?"

She turned beet red. "You heard me."

"Yeah, but what is it, detachable?"

"It's big," she said and then bit her lip and stared at her shoes.

"I don't see what the problem with that is."

"It's four feet high, Lester."

Holy Mary, mother of God! "Just give me then damn file, Steph."

Steph handed over the slim manila dossier and dashed out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened. Had I just dropped down the rabbit hole here or something? I followed her into the garage and skimmed the file quickly. Ah, he had his naughty garden ornament impounded. She really was a prude. I looked up and the next thing I knew she was hitting me in the face with her pocket book.

"You bit my freaking ear!" she hollered.

I put my hands up to defend the wild swings from the enraged Burg woman. "I merely applied pressure to gain the desired result, doll. Don't take it personally."

The assault stopped abruptly. "You weren't hitting on me?"

I looked her up and down a couple of times. "Trust me love, you aren't my type."

"Huh?"

"You don't have a four foot dick."


	3. Chapter 3

**Reality Bites**

**Chapter Three**

**Lester POV – Trenton 9.45AM**

"Steph?"

"Hmm?"

"You okay, doll? You've been pretty quiet this morning," I said as I studied her closely. I wasn't sure what was bothering her, but she was not herself today.

Steph shrugged. "Fine, just bored."

I snorted. "You're always bored on stakeouts, but today you seem a little, I don't know… distracted maybe."

She turned to look at me and bit her lip. "I just… Ranger told me… It doesn't matter, Lester."

"What doesn't matter?"

"Forget it."

I popped the dash open and pulled out an emergency stash of Twinkies. Maybe the sugar would get her talking; I wasn't up for the seduction routine again anytime soon. "Here, eat that and tell Lester all about it."

She stuffed half the Twinkie into her mouth, chewed a couple of times and swallowed. Yuck. The second half vanished in another instant; she slumped back in her seat and licked her fingers clean.

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes while the sugar hit her system and then she turned to me, put her hand on my thigh, and looked right into my eyes. "Lester, who's Bailey?"

Oh fuck! How does she know about Bailey? What does she know about Bailey? "Who?"

Steph dug her perfectly manicured nails into my leg mere inches from my dick. "I know you know who she is, and I know Ranger is going to Boston today to see her. Tell me about her. Now."

I carefully removed her hand, looked away and tried to regroup. "I can't, I mean it's classified."

"She's classified?" Steph muttered angrily.

Oh hell, I was in deep shit here. What was I supposed to say about Bailey? I suspected that I wasn't pretty far from the truth when I told Steph that she was classified. "Sorry Steph."

She sat back in her seat. "Oh don't worry about it. Guess I've not got clearance, right?"

"Umm…"

"But it's okay for Ranger to go to Boston to meet with some strange woman who is and I quote 'short, dark haired, tattooed and scary'. I guess he meets a lot of women while he vanishes on business."

Okay… Maybe Steph's PMS-ing after all. "Are you jealous, Steph?"

"No! What on earth makes you think that? Why does everyone seem to think I'm jealous of her?"

I shifted in my seat and stole a glance at her. Looking a little crazy there. I need hazard pay for dealing with this shit; it's sooo not in my job description. "She's just a contractor, Steph."

"And you've met her, yeah?"

I nodded.

"She attractive?"

I squirmed a little. Yeah Steph was jealous, but I couldn't for the life of me work out why. She didn't think that Ranger was going to Boston to do the nasty with Bailey, did she?

"Well?" Steph snapped.

"I guess, it depends really."

Steph narrowed her eyes. "Depends on what?"

"On what you look for in a woman."

"Like?" she prompted.

"She's not to my taste," I offered in a vain attempt to smooth things over.

"What about Ranger?"

"Eeewww, he's my cousin! He's so not to my taste."

She smacked me on the arm. "No you idiot, is she Ranger's type?"

"Bailey?"

Steph rolled her eyes. "Yes, Bailey."

How the hell did I answer that one? I mean I know what Ranger's been getting up to in Boston, but that was before he got together with Steph. I didn't want to lie, but it was not my place to talk about Ranger's sex life with his current girlfriend. I needed serious evasive action here. "I'm gay."

"Pardon?"

I bit my lip and did the cute and coy routine. "I'm gay."

Steph laughed. "Right, and I'm Wonder Woman, Lester."

"No, it's true; I'm dating Bobby."

She frowned. "But I thought… that you…"

Crisis averted; that subject change should keep her occupied for a while. "Well, I guess I'm actually bi-sexual, but I've been seeing Bobby for about six months now."

"Wow. I wouldn't have guessed, I mean all I ever hear about is your string of conquests."

I smiled. "Had you fooled then?"

Steph nodded.

"But," I said as I placed my finger over her lips. "Not a word to anyone. Not a soul, okay?"

"Okay. With Bobby… wow."

"Yeah, he is pretty wow, Steph."

She grinned. "He is pretty hot; he's got one hell of an ass."

"Amen to that, sister," I laughed.

"But Lester?"

"Yeah?"

"As much as I am flattered by you trusting me with your little secret, that still hasn't answered my question."

Shit, and I thought I'd managed to avoid the impending Bailey crisis. "What question was that?" I lied.

"Is Bailey Ranger's type?"

"Is that your skip, Steph?"

"What, where?"

"No, sorry, just looked a little like him," I said as I tried to think of a way out of this mess.

She sighed. "Why won't you answer me?"

I looked away from her. "He's my cousin and my boss; it's not my place to discuss what he may or may not think about some chick when pressured to do so by his current girlfriend."

"So you won't answer me out of loyalty?"

I nodded. "Exactly."

"Okay, how about this then, what is her type?"

"I really don't know."

"You don't know what sort of guy she dates? What about Anthony? Ranger said that he'd caught then having sex once."

I smiled. "I heard about that."

"So she's dating Anthony then?"

"I have no idea who she dates; I don't see her that often. But if Ranger mentioned Anthony then yeah, I guess it's okay to say that she's had a bit of a thing with him."

"What does she see in him?"

"That he's mad enough to date her," I answered honestly.

Steph frowned. "Mad enough?"

"Yeah, she's a bit of a loose cannon. I wouldn't date her; I value my safety and sanity too much."

"So she'd need a totally mental guy to date her?"

"Not quite, I just think he'd have to be able to put up with a very strong willed and independent woman who stands on her own two feet and gets into a lot of dangerous situations."

"She sounds a lot like me, Lester."

"Well sort of, but she's a lot more hardcore and can handle herself better – no offense, Steph."

Steph smiled grimly. "None taken."

"I think there's some more sugar in the glove box," I said as I reached over.

The sound of a gun being cocked right next to my head made me jump and Steph pressed the barrel of her S&W to my temple. "We're going on a little road trip, Lester."

"What the fuck?" I gritted out. She was totally loco.

"We're going to Boston."

Fuck! I don't need god damn hazard pay for this shit; I need a therapist and a vacation.

She wiggled the gun a little against the side of my head. "Drive."

I turned the key in the ignition and pulled out into traffic, and prayed that the vacation I really wanted was not at the hands of Ranger in a shipping crate, or a pine box courtesy of Bailey.


	4. Chapter 4

**Reality Bites**

**Chapter Four**

**Ranger POV – Rangeman Boston 3.45 PM**

Bailey looked up from the plans and intel spread out on the coffee table, and scrubbed her hands over her face. "Do you think I have some sort of death wish, Ric?"

I set my coffee down on the kitchen counter and shrugged. "Never known you to turn shit down before, babe. What's the problem with this job?"

"Problem?" she hissed. "This is bollocks, total effing bollocks; this intel ain't worth the paper it's written on. Where did you say you got this crap from?"

"From a contact of mine – he's provided good, solid intel in the past."

She snorted. "Yeah, well it ain't his arse on the line here. I'll do my own leg work on this mess; it'll cost you a hell of a lot more than normal."

"You don't trust me?" Bailey didn't usually spook that easily, but I was pretty sure she was seriously overreacting here.

"I don't trust your man. Who is he, who does he work for?"

I drained the last of my coffee. "That information is classified."

"Why do I feel like you are selling me down the river, Ric?"

"Hey!" I snapped, "I would never ever do that to you. If I thought you would have any problems with this then I wouldn't ask you to do it."

Bailey scowled. "Like last time, eh?"

"That was just a few crossed wires, babe."

"A few crossed wires that left me with twenty seven stitches in my leg and a bullet in my arm, you git," she muttered as she began to pace the length of the living area.

I leant against the back of the couch and watched her stomp backwards and forwards. The enraged look on her face was lessened by the fact that she was wearing nothing but black boxers and a hot pink tank top. The touch of color softened her usually monochrome image and made her look like a girl for a change. Her long black hair was tied up on top of her head in a loose bun and it was held in place with three ballpoint pens; she was quite mad, but I guess I wouldn't have her any other way. "You should know that I wouldn't deliberately put you in danger; look, when you've finished wearing a path in the carpet let's sit down and you can show me what bits of the file have you worried."

She stopped suddenly, cocked her head and studied me intently with her eerie grey eyes, and then finally nodded. "Okay, but more coffee first."

"Deal. I'll take another one if you don't mind. God knows I need the caffeine today."

Bailey smirked. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Fuck off little girl," I gritted out.

She let out a bark of laughter. "You made your bed, Ricardo Manoso, so you may as well get used to it. Nobody to blame but yourself there buddy."

"It's fine, Bailey."

"Right…"

"I just…"

"Miss your personal space," she finished for me.

"How did you know, babe?"

Bailey smiled sadly. "Somebody once told me that people like us don't do relationships, Ric."

I walked up to her and took the coffee mug out of her hand. "Which idiot told you that?" I said sarcastically as I perfectly recalled the date and time in Phoenix, Arizona when I myself had said that to her.

She placed her palm on my cheek and dropped a swift kiss on my forehead. "I'm not gonna lie to you Ric, relationships are hard work. You're gonna have to want to make this work."

"I know. It's just… Why does she have to ask so many damn questions?"

Bailey smiled. "Because she's a woman, it's what we do."

I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. "Now answer me a question: If I told you I couldn't tell you something about my work because it was classified, what would you do?"

She shrugged. "Hope that you didn't get shot?"

"That's it?"

"Well yeah…"

I sighed. "Well at least I know you won't drive me to drink with a million and one questions about my classified work."

"True as that maybe, Steph's a better woman than I am, Ric; I'd have shot your ass by now."

I smirked. "I'm pretty sure that I infuriate her."

"Yeah well-"

Her alarm system bleeped loudly, Bailey jumped in shock and elbowed me in the chest by accident as she shoved past me to get to her computers. My hot coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug and splattered my t-shirt, scalding my chest in the process.

"Ow!" I groused as I pulled off the sodden garment and looked down at the red blotches on my chest.

"What the fuck?" she growled as hit a couple of buttons on her keyboard and then turned a monitor in my direction. "I know you said that she asked a lot of questions, but care to tell me why your girlfriend is in the lift pointing a gun at Lester's head?"

"I have no idea." What the hell was Steph doing here?

"I can't believe Lester brought her here; I'm going to castrate him, and I know Bobby wouldn't thank me for that."

"Bobby, what's he got to do with this?"

Bailey slid a gun into the back of her boxers. "Have you seen the size of Lester's dick? I'm not surprised that Bobby walks funny; I doubt he'd be happy if I put Lester out of action."

"How do you know for sure the two of them are together?" I asked incredulously.

"Lester told me, Ric."

"He hasn't told me," I replied.

"No? Well next time you want to know anything, just load Lester up with tequila and he'll sing like a canary."

"I thought it was Absinthe?"

"That came later," she said with a grin. "So, how you gonna get rid of Ms. Plum?"

"We could just let them in, Bailey. I guess she's only here because of you."

"No shit, Sherlock," she hissed. "Do we need to go over withstanding interrogation from pretty women 101 again, Ric? What have you been saying to her?"

"Nothing, I promise. I just let slip this morning that you existed. I didn't tell her anything else. Steph doesn't know anything about my sex life and I wasn't about to tell her that I was off to visit my…"

"Occasional bed partner, casual fuck, pet assassin?" she offered.

"Something like that."

Bailey smacked her head against the wall a couple of times. "What a bloody mess. And for the love of Pete, Ric, go put a damn shirt on. You trying to get us both shot?"

"Fine, what are you going to do?"

"Let her in, best to just get this over with."

I rummaged about in Bailey's armoire and found one of my spare t-shirts. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry; I never meant to tell her about you."

"What's done is done," she said with a shrug. "She'd have found out about your past sooner or later and the sooner she realizes I'm not a threat to your relationship the better."

I nodded. "You gonna put some clothes on, Lee?"

"I'd say that she can take me as she fucking finds me because it's my damn apartment. I'm not naked, I don't look like I've just been fucked, but there is no sense in asking for trouble," she replied as she tugged on a pair of ratty cut off combats and a black Rangeman hoodie.

I looked her up and down. "You'll do."

She shot me the bird. "You so owe me for this shit, Ricardo."

Bailey padded bare foot across the room, overrode the locks and tugged the huge blast proof door open. I shook my head as I took in the sight before me. Poor Lester looked like he was about to piss his pants; I wasn't sure who's wrath he feared more – mine or Bailey's.

Steph stopped at the threshold, gun still in her hand, and I wondered if the damn thing was actually loaded. She stared at Bailey uneasily and then looked past her to me. It seemed that now Steph had finally gotten here, she wasn't actually that sure what to do with herself.

Bailey leant up against the door jamb and popped a hand on her hip. "Can I help you?" she drawled in her faint Irish accent.

Steph looked back to her and swallowed audibly. "I was…"

"Yes?" Bailey prompted.

"Um…" she trailed off as she looked to me for help.

I wasn't in the mood to dig her out of the mess she was in. She had driven over four hours to Boston with one of my staff at gun point because she was being nosey about a woman that worked for me. If it had been another of my staff that had pulled this shit then I would have fired them on the spot. I strongly doubted Lester would have told her anything about Bailey because he valued his life too much to blab shit about anything classified, even if Steph was my girlfriend.

Bailey shifted again, took hold of Lester's hand and hauled him into the room. "Hey Les," she said cheerfully, "You want some coffee?"

"I'm so very sorry, yes, and bathroom – in that order," he blurted out as he shot across the apartment and vanished into the walled off bathroom area.

Bailey turned back to Steph again, oblivious to the Smith & Weston that was in my girlfriend's hand. "I'm sorry, did you want something?"

Steph shuffled her feet and bit her lip.

"No?" Bailey pressed.

"I wanted… I was looking for Ranger," Steph whispered.

"Well, there he is; you can go now," Bailey said tersely as she started pushing the door shut in Steph's face.

"Wait! Can I just talk to him for a second?"

Bailey shrugged and looked to me.

I took a deep breath and walked over to the door. "You want something, Steph?"

"I just…"

I sighed. "Babe, I'm working here. And you should be in Trenton looking for your skip. Unless you got him already?"

She shook her head.

"Why are you here, Stephanie?" I pressed as I tried to hide my annoyance.

She blushed.

"Fine. Maybe you want to call Bobby for me and explain to him why he has to work a double shift."

"What?" Steph said.

I folded my arms across my chest. "Tank is on holiday, I am here on government business, and Bobby is on the night shift. Lester is due to take over command of the office in," I glanced at my watch, "Ten minutes, but he's now here in Boston. I need a senior member on the deck to handle the shift change and the only guy I have left is Bobby, who went to bed around eight this morning. So I now need to get him out of bed and ask him to work a sixteen hour shift. Do you think he's going to be happy about that?"

Stephanie shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"It's not me you need to apologize to," I said coldly.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye; Lester slipped out of the bathroom and made a bee-line for the coffee pot. I glanced over at him. "Les, could you do me a favor?"

"Does it involve Cambodia?" he asked warily as he heaped half a dozen spoons of sugar into his coffee. Poor guy, this wasn't really his fault.

I smirked. "No, but you do need to call your lover and ask him to cover your shift; he might take it better from you."

The sugar spoon slid from Lester's hand and clattered onto the counter. "My lover?"

"I know, Lester. And I don't care what you do in your own time; I just wish that I hadn't had to work it out by myself and have it confirmed by Bailey."

He picked the spoon up. "Okay I'll call Bobby. So, we cool, Ric?"

I smiled. "Yeah man, we're cool."

He let out a huge sigh and then smiled. "I'll call him in a few."

"Good," I said as I turned my attention back to Stephanie.

Time to bite the bullet. "Stephanie, this is Bailey. Bailey, Stephanie."

Bailey nodded and my girlfriend smiled weakly at her.

"So, let's try again, shall we? Why are you here, Steph?" I asked.

"Why don't you ever tell me anything?" she yelled.

Ahh, now we were getting somewhere. "You want me to discuss classified government business with you?"

"No, it's not that; it's her," she grumbled as she gestured at Bailey with her gun.

Bailey's hand snaked out lightening fast and she grabbed a hold of Steph by the wrist, before pulling the gun out of her grip with the other. With a flick of her wrist Bailey had the chamber open and three bullets tumbled onto the carpet. "Do not point a gun at me, ever; even if you don't intend on using it. It is not a toy, it is a deadly weapon. Got that, lady?"

Stephanie nodded and stared at the floor while rubbing her wrist where Bailey had gripped it.

"Good, now what is your problem with me?" Bailey asked her.

"What are you?" Steph whispered.

"Excuse me?" Bailey shot back.

Steph looked up at me. "What are you to Ranger?"

Bailey slid the Smith & Weston into the back of her combats along with her own Glock. "I work for Ric, and up until just before you moved in with him I used to share a bed with him in a casual, no strings capacity. Is that want you wanted to hear?"

Steph looked between the pair of us a couple of times. "How long…" She cleared her throat. "How long have you been seeing him?"

"I've known him four years, been in his bed every so often for about the last two and a half, save the last four months while he's been living with you."

"What about our deal, Ranger?" Steph asked quietly.

I snorted. "You think I've been celibate since I slept with you two years ago?"

Steph wrung her hands together. "I don't know, I just…"

"Thought he'd save himself for you until you'd finished dicking about with that cop of yours?" Bailey spat out as she moved away from the door. "Ranger's not a bloody monk, you know. And come on in why don't you? You're letting the cold in."

Stephanie shuffled past the grumpy assassin in the doorway and sat down in the arm chair nearest to her. She was silent for a few beats and then looked back up at me. "You told her about Joe?"

I shrugged. "Yeah."

"What else did you tell her?"

Bailey snorted and slammed the door shut. "I'm standing right here, darlin'."

I ignored Bailey's catty comment. "We talk, Stephanie. We're good friends, we work together; I've had to unload all my emotional baggage on someone. Who do you think I used to talk to about all the nasty shit that goes on in my life, babe?"

"You could have talked to me?" she whispered.

"Could I?" I snarled. "You think Joe would have liked me calling you at two in the morning so you could pop over and patch me up, then hold me in your arms for ten hours while I cried on your shoulder because one of my men got shot dead right in front of me?"

"I could have tried," she sniffed as a tear ran down her cheek.

"No," I shook my head. "I was not going to do that to you while you were with Joe. You had to come to me of your own choice. I waited until you decided that things were over with Morelli and then I invited you into my life as much as I could. There will always be things going on in my life that I cannot fully explain to you; such is the way of classified information, and I made you aware of that at the start. But that does not mean I am cheating on you; I'm not flitting between two people until I can make my mind up. You wanted a relationship with me and I made that commitment. Did you honestly think I was coming to Boston to fuck Bailey?"

"I don't know," she sobbed.

"Don't you trust me, Stephanie?"

"You don't tell me anything about your life!"

I knew what she really meant by that statement. "So you'd have wanted me to tell you about my sex life prior to us moving in together?"

Bailey shook her head and wandered over to Lester in the kitchen area. She hauled herself up to sit on the counter, and Lester slid an arm around her shoulder then dropped a kiss on her cheek. "I really am very sorry about this," he whispered to her.

I looked back at Steph. "Well, are you saying that I should have told you about my ex?"

"But you've been seeing her for years."

"So? I'm not seeing her now. I have never cheated on you. The main reason for my silence is that Bailey does not exist. She is not on the Rangeman payroll and I don't tell anyone who or where she is unless I have to. Her safety depends on my silence. Your actions today were reckless and totally uncalled for. I had hoped to have been back tonight and you could have asked me about it then. Do you think this little stunt has actually achieved anything?" I growled.

"I had to know who she is, what was with this cloak and dagger routine!" Steph yelled.

I shook my head sadly. "Lester, take Steph back to Trenton in your truck. I'll be back in the next day or so; I have work to do here. Can you split the shifts up between you and Bobby, or do you want me to send Bones back with you to help out?"

Lester let go of Bailey. "I'll take Bobby's night shift when I return, and he can come back on shift twelve hours later; we'll cover the office like that until you finish up here. How long do you think you'll be?"

"I'll be done when I'm done; Bailey thinks the intel is off and I want to go over it with her. I'd like to think that I'll be back late tomorrow, but I'll keep you posted, man."

"Okay boss. I'll catch up with you soon," he said with a smile as he pulled Bailey into a hug. "You take care out there, you hear me, girl."

Bailey hugged him back. "Don't you worry about me, Les. Give me a call when you and Bobby have a free weekend and we'll get together."

"Deal, but no tequila, got that?"

Bailey laughed. "We could get Bobby drunk and get him pierced as well."

A grin spread across Lester's face. "I like the way you think, baby. I'll bring the tequila."

I looked back at Steph. "We'll finish this talk when I get back. You will still be there when I get back, right?"

Steph shrugged and dug a crumpled Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe her face. "Maybe, I don't know; I need time to think about all this. I might go visit my parents for a couple of days."

My blank face slammed into place. "Okay, you know where to find me when you want to talk."

She nodded and stood up. "Can I have my gun back?"

Bailey snorted and got up to open the door. "I don't fucking think so."

"Come on Steph," Lester cajoled as he steered her towards the door. "I have to get back to work; this isn't fair on Bobby."

She shuffled out of the door, then turned back to look at me and bit her lip.

"Oh, and Steph?" Bailey called out, "Nice to finally meet you. Just remember to keep your mouth shut; you get what I'm saying?"

Stephanie nodded and then let Lester lead her over to the elevator.

I watched them climb aboard and the Bailey shut the door with a clang before resetting the locks.

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath.

I walked into the kitchen, pulled out her bottle of Jameson's and downed a good measure of the single malt before slamming the bottle down on the counter. "Shit!" I yelled as I smashed my fist into the cabinet door.

Bailey picked up the bottle, took a swig and punched me hard on the arm. "Well that went well, don't you think?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Reality Bites**

**Chapter Five**

_I walked into the kitchen, pulled out her bottle of Jameson's and downed a good measure of the single malt before slamming the bottle down on the counter. "Shit!" I yelled as I smashed my fist into the cabinet door._

_Bailey picked up the bottle, took a swig and punched me hard on the arm. "Well that went well, don't you think?"_

"Shut up, Bailey," I growled as I glanced down at my bloody knuckles. This day was turning out to be a total cluster fuck.

"Don't take this shit out on me, you arsehole," she shot back as she snatched the whisky off the counter again and took a long swallow of the amber liquid. "I didn't invite Stephanie here."

"No," I snarled, "But you sure as hell did your best to make her feel welcome, right?"

Bailey shoved me in the ribs with the flat of her palm. "Your fucking girlfriend threatened to shoot your own cousin in order to find out if you were having an affair, an affair that her warped little brain had concocted from zero evidence, might I add. She came to my door holding a loaded gun, Ric! What did you want me to do, invite her to dinner, teach her how to do that thing you like with a tub of low fat yoghurt or the one with a bag of ice cubes, or maybe even show her our stash of sex toys and tell her which ones were your favorites?"

"Enough! Just shut up Bailey."

She gave me another push. "Why?"

I dragged my hands through my hair. "Stop being so damn crude, Bailey."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the whisky again. "It's never bothered you before; are you turning into a prude, Ric Manoso?"

I snatched the Jameson's out of her hand. "Stop pushing my buttons, girl; I'm not a damn prude. And don't you even consider telling Stephanie anything about our sex life, ever."

Bailey crossed her arms and smiled sweetly. "You never know, it might broaden her horizons."

"Leave my sex life well alone; there is nothing wrong with it."

"Good to hear," she responded dryly.

"I'll just talk to Steph when I get home, get this sorted out," I replied.

"If she's still there," Bailey said with a shake of her head. "Personally I think that woman lives in the land of denial and you're gonna spend a hell of a lot of time playing the on again – off again game with her. Unless you know of a way to beat that particular personality trait out of her, and get her to sit down and actually have an adult conversation with you about your relationship, that is."

I sighed. "Shut up, Bailey, I'm warning you."

"It's my damn apartment and I'll effing speak my mind, thank you. I may not be in your bed any more, but that does not mean that I stopped caring about you when you waltzed out of the door to play house with little Ms. Emotionally Challenged. Is this the way it's going to be, Ric? That she runs off to her parents every time you have a spat because she doesn't want to talk about it. No wonder she let you poach while she was dating Morelli; it's pretty fucking obvious that the woman has no idea what the word commitment means."

"Stop it!" I snarled as I slammed the bottle down on the counter in an attempt to vent my anger and frustration on the inanimate object in my hand.

"Think about it, Ric, if Steph was committed to you then she would work this out, not scurry off to her parents. Fuck, she wouldn't have even been here in Boston in the first place if she had a single rational thought in her head. This is no way to maintain a relationship. Shit, she fucked about with the cop all the time; is she gonna let some other guy poach kisses in a filthy alley every time she has an argument with you?"

Her words cut me deep and my worn control finally slipped. I hurled the half empty bottle in my hand, and it smashed against the over head cabinet to her left. Glass and fine Irish whisky rained down on the counter, Bailey and the floor seconds before I slammed into her. Her head smacked back against the wooden door behind her with a dull thunk, and for a second we both stood there, breathing heavily, muscles tense. Then the spell was broken as Bailey's hand groped blindly for the loaded Glock in her waistband, her actions hampered by the counter at her back, and I made a grab for her arms.

"Fucking arsehole," she spat as she threw a well aimed punch with her left hand that landed squarely on my jaw.

I shook off the stars that dotted my vision and wrestled her hands above her head. "Shut the fuck up!" I snarled as my rage erupted and my mercenary instincts took over my body. Suddenly I was back in that hell hole fighting for my life, and my body shook with rage.

My assailant shoved a knee into my balls; I twisted away slightly, but the impact was enough for me to let go of her hands and she launched herself at me, fists flying. The ground shot up to meet me and my attacker knocked me flat on my back, and without a second thought I rolled her beneath me and smacked her head repeatedly off the kitchen floor.

Nothing existed at that moment except me, my anger and my own survival. The world had dropped away, blood pounded in my ears and my enemy squirmed beneath me, trying to shake me off. She didn't stand a chance, I had too much of a weight advantage on her. Her hands curled into claws and she went for my face, but I slapped her down hard, pinned her to the floor and grabbed the knife in my boot. The overhead lights sparkled prettily off the wicked looking blade, my arm moved downwards and she screamed.

The noise reverberated around my skull and I stopped when the knife hit bone. I looked down at my hand, the knife sticking in about an inch or so into her shoulder, and then at her face. A lone tear slid down her cheek and a sob escaped her lips.

That small sound brought reality crashing back with a tremendous force and I rolled off Bailey just in time to throw up on the floor next to her. What the fuck had I just done? I shakily got to my feet and went for the first aid kit under the sink.

Bailey hissed in pain and I turned back to look at her. There was a growing pool of blood around her head and under her shoulder, and bloody foot prints on the kitchen floor from where the shattered bottle had ripped into her bare feet.

In a daze I knelt down next to her and tugged the knife free from her body; it clattered to the floor and I resisted the urge to vomit again.

"What the fuck?"

I looked up at the sound of the voice and stared into the angry eyes of my brother. I'd been so lost in my own flash back that I'd never even heard him enter the room.

"Anthony," I whispered, "You have to help me. I…"

He crossed the room, gun in hand and rapidly assessed the situation in front of him. "You fucker!" he snarled as he cold cocked me with the butt of his gun. The world tilted sideways and then it went black.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I don't normally write in Joe POV, so this was quite fun. It's funny how things change. I used to be a total babe, and now I just think that both Ranger and Joe deserve better. You kinda lose respect for an author when she puts her 'leading' male in bunny boxers and tells you that he has a hairy ass. Joe used to be a tall, dark and handsome bad boy, and now he's just a joke and a bit of an asshole. It's sad really. If Steph was real and I met her in the street, I'd punch her in the damn nose; I really don't like who she has become. JE has turned her own characters into caricatures and it makes me grumpy. Consider this fic payback for Ranger and Joe's treatment at the hands of their creator. And I promise, not a monkey or fart joke in sight.

**Reality Bites**

**Chapter Six**

**Joe Morelli POV – Trenton New Jersey 9.30PM**

I was standing at the counter waiting for my pizza when Stephanie Plum walked into Pino's. She looked tired, almost a little shell-shocked, and wandered up towards me in a daze. To be honest I wasn't even sure that she saw me.

"Hey Cupcake," I said cheerfully.

"What? Oh hey Joe," she replied as she finally realized that I was standing six feet away from her.

"You okay?" I quizzed as she sat down wearily on a stool and dumped her monstrosity of a purse onto the bar.

"Sure, just a long day. How are you, Joe?"

"I'm doing well." And I was. We'd been apart for nearly six months, and while I missed Steph, I finally realized that our relationship was not going where I wanted it to go, and I'd called it quits. I guess you can only have so many arguments before things get too much. Yes I had wanted to marry her, but I hadn't expected her to give up her job or pop us out a couple of kids, despite what I'd heard on the Burg grapevine. To be honest, I was never quite sure what Steph wanted out of our relationship, and we never seemed to stop arguing enough to find out; can't base a future on sex alone. Still, she was with Manoso now and I wished them every happiness.

"Good," she murmured half heartedly as she pushed a menu around the bar with her fingertip.

Something was wrong, and the cop in me wanted to get to the bottom of it. "Are you sure that you are alright?"

She sighed and then shrugged slightly. "Probably."

"Trouble in paradise?" I teased good naturedly.

Steph let out a bitter sounding laugh. "Oh no, not at all."

Darcie, the waitress brought out my boxed up order, and I slid a twenty across the counter to her. "Look Steph, I know it's none of my business, but if you want to talk about it then we can grab a table."

"Like you want to hear about my problems," she muttered.

I touched her arm gently. "We're friends, Stephanie. Come on, let's get a table and you can tell me all about it. Maybe talking things through will help you sort this out."

She nodded and I signaled Darcie back over. "You mind if we grab a table and eat in?"

Darcie smiled. "No problem Joe. Do you want me to bring you guys a pitcher of beer over too?"

"Thanks Darcie, that would be great," I said as I took a hold of Steph by the elbow to steer her towards an empty booth.

She shuffled after me, flopped down in her seat and rubbed her hands over her face. "I can't do this, Joe; I can't talk to my ex about my boyfriend."

I thanked Darcie for the beers, poured Steph a glass and opened the pizza box. "So talk to me as your friend instead."

"You don't mind?"

I took a sip of beer. "Nope, so what's the problem?"

Steph took a large swig of beer and then began to fiddle with the napkins. "I thought that once I moved in with Ranger he would open up to me a bit more, you know? I mean sure I know more about him and his family, but the rest of it, well nothing's changed."

I frowned. "What do you want him to talk to you about more?"

"Everything. I'm just so sick of 'Babe, I have a meeting somewhere, I'll be off line for a week.' Or 'Babe I have to work away, I'll be gone for two weeks.' I hardly ever see him and I never know where he is, who he's with, or what he's doing."

"Cupcake, Steph, listen to me, he probably can't tell you. You know as well as I do that he probably works for people who don't even exist on paper. I doubt he's trying to hurt you; have you told him how you feel?"

She sniffed a couple of times. "I tried today."

"And?"

"He yelled at me."

I had never heard Manoso raise his voice, let alone yell at someone; this wasn't making any sense. "He yelled at you?"

"He was so angry, but I only wanted to find out the truth…"

What the hell was going on here? "Hang on a second, Steph, just back up a little, what did you want to find out?"

"I had to know about her!" she snapped angrily.

I was totally confused. "Who?"

She downed half the beer in her glass. "His ex-girlfriend; he mentioned her by accident this morning at breakfast. Didn't say she was his ex exactly, but it was the way he refused to talk about her that tipped me off. I asked Lester about her and even he wouldn't tell me anything; said it was classified."

I had a very bad feeling about this. "Go on. So what made him so angry?"

Steph squirmed in her seat slightly. "I made Lester take me to Boston."

I snagged a piece of pizza "Steph, I don't understand what on earth is going on here."

"Ranger had a meeting in Boston today, with the woman who he refused to talk to me about, despite the fact that some of the guys knew her. When I asked Lester about her he clammed up and wouldn't say much either, so I pointed my gun at him and told him to drive me to Boston so I could talk to Ranger."

"And meet this woman?" I asked in disbelief.

"Well of course."

"Did you meet her?"

"Yes, and she was his ex-girlfriend! I knew it and he wouldn't tell me, the bastard."

I have never understood woman logic. "But she's his ex, why does it matter?"

Steph glared. "Did you ever see him dating anyone?"

And the penny dropped. "So you thought that because you'd never seen him with another woman that he was what, waiting on you or something?"

She grabbed a piece of pizza and refused to meet my gaze. Bingo!

"Cupcake," I continued, "he's a good looking guy, I'm sure he's never been short of female company."

"But I didn't know," she gritted out. "I thought that… I just… Never mind.

"Okay, so you met the ex, and then what?" I found myself enquiring in an attempt to change the subject; despite the fact that I wasn't sure I wanted to hear what was coming next.

"Ranger yelled, said he was working with her and that he was busy. Then he pitched a fit because Tank is on holiday, and Lester had to call Bobby and get him out of bed to cover his shift because he was in Boston with me. And she just stood there glaring. She even had the nerve to take my gun away from me!"

I tried to picture the scene in Boston, but gave up; my acid reflux just didn't need the aggravation.

"And do you know the worst thing about all this?" Steph continued.

I shook my head. "No, surprise me."

"She's not even attractive!"

"Maybe she was good in bed?" I suggested.

Steph snorted.

"Okay, so what does she look like then?"

"Short, like 5'3" maybe, is totally flat chested, had tattoos all over her leg and a serious attitude problem."

"Not what you thought Ranger would go for?" I quizzed.

Steph shrugged. "Yeah… But do you know what had me worried?

I chewed on another slice of pizza and motioned for her to carry on.

"She's like Little Miss Uber Bad Ass; all cold and detached. It was like looking at the female version of Ranger, and there's no way I can compete with that. Just looking at the two of them together, I felt like my heart was being ripped out. They both said that there was nothing going on, but they just, I don't know…"

"Looked like they belonged together?" I offered.

"Yeah, something like that," she muttered.

"You know Manoso deals with a lot of government stuff; it was probably just business. Talk to Ranger, I'm sure he'll tell you that it wasn't what it looked like, Steph."

She slapped her hand down on the table and the glasses wobbled. "Wasn't what it looked like? My boyfriend was dating, shit, could still be dating a freaking assassin or something; he refused point blank to tell me about her and then ran off to Boston to have a clandestine meeting with her in her secret bunker to discuss God only knows what!"

I put my head in my hands and wished that I really wasn't hearing this. "I think you must have your wires crossed, cupcake."

"She may as was well of stood there and said 'Hey, I'm Bailey and I kill people for a living. I'm shacked up in your boyfriend's basement in his Boston office, and by the way I'm still fucking him!'" Steph hollered.

A deadly silence washed over the restaurant and I grabbed a hold of her hand. "Stephanie, shut up!"

"What the hell, Joe?"

"Stephanie for once in your damn life, shut up," I hissed.

She snatched her hand back "Just what is your problem, Joe?"

"My problem," I gritted out "Is that you have just announced to a room full of cops and the local mob that your boyfriend has an assassin living in the basement of his Boston building. And knowing Ranger, said assassin, regardless of whether he is fucking her or not, is either working deep undercover, or is a wanted mercenary with a price on her head."

"That's just crazy…"

I leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "I know who Bailey is by reputation, Steph – I know she killed Abruzzi for Ranger, and that she was on the roof of the building opposite your apartment with a sniper rifle when Scrog shot him. She would have killed that lunatic, but Tank told me that she couldn't get a clean shot. If she'd have killed Scrog then it would have been murder – she wasn't working for the P.D or the FBI; she was putting her own neck on the line for a friend and his daughter. If people find out where she is then she could be in a hell of a lot of trouble. I think you need to call Ranger and tell him that he has some very serious damage control to do."

Steph drained her glass. "Why would she, you know, kill Abruzzi?"

"Because Ranger can't get his hands dirty," I replied quietly. "Steph, I'm being serious here, you need to tell Ranger that you dropped the both of them in the shit in Pino's tonight."

"I can't take this," she murmured and stood up.

"Steph?"

"I'm going to stay at my parents for a couple of days. Good night Joe."

Fuck! I watched her walk away, and then tossed some money onto the table to cover our drinks. The pizza was nearly cold, but I shut the box lid and decided it would reheat later on. But first I had to do something; there were cell phones out around the room and things could get nasty for Ranger. His moral compass was slightly off center, but he was still one of the good guys.

I jogged out to my truck, beeped the locks, climbed in and pulled out my cell. Somewhere in my contacts I had Manoso's number. I scrolled down to it and hit connect. It rang a couple of times and then went to voicemail. Crap.

"It's Morelli; call me as soon as you get this," I said, and hung up.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Chronologically this chapter actually takes place before the last one in Trenton. I just wanted to do it this way round as it flowed better. This is, time line wise, the direct follow on to chapter five.

**Reality Bites**

**Chapter Seven**

**Ranger POV – Rangeman Boston 4.20PM**

The darkness gradually gave way and I managed to open my eyes, despite the pounding in my head. My view consisted of blood covered floor tiles, and the events from earlier came back to me in a rush. Fuck, what had I done to Bailey?

I tried to roll from my side to my back, but found that my wrists were cuffed behind me. Guess that was my brother's doing, and I honestly didn't blame him. I'd have cuffed him too if I'd have caught him beating the shit out of the woman we both cared about.

A wave of nausea washed over me and I pushed down the urge to vomit; it already felt like something had died in my mouth and I didn't want to make it any worse. I probably had concussion and could do with a visit to the E.R to get checked out. But first things first, I had to make sure Bailey was okay.

With a grunt I pulled myself up into a sitting position and the world swam. When it came back into view, a pair of legs clad in ratty cargo shorts was in front of me. Anthony.

I looked up slowly into the face of my brother and grimaced; he looked like he wanted to hit me again.

"Is..." I coughed and tired to find my voice. "Is she okay?"

Antony squatted down in front of me, Glock dangling loosely in his left hand, and glared at me. "No thanks to you, you fucker; what the hell were you thinking?"

I rested my forehead on my knees and sighed. What had I been thinking? Nothing. Nothing but pure rage and hatred. Why? Because Bailey was right; she'd pulled apart my relationship with Steph in a couple of harsh sentences. For so long I'd wanted a relationship with Stephanie Plum and once I'd achieved my goal I'd papered over the ever growing cracks, lied to myself, pretended that it would be okay, that the relationship would survive. I'd fought for so long and I was not going to let her go once I had her, but it was obvious that it had been the wrong thing to do.

I glanced back to my brother. "I wasn't thinking, man. She just hit all the raw nerves, all the things I had tried to ignore, and I lost it. You don't know how fucking sorry I am for what happened.

"Beating on one of the guys I could understand," Anthony whispered, "But Bailey?"

I pressed my head against my knees in a vain attempt to stop the throbbing in my skull. "But she is one of the guys," I murmured.

Anthony snorted.

"I just forgot who she was for a second; I know she's not like you or Tank, and can't handle the shit I dish out, despite how well she handles herself."

"You have serious anger management issues, Ranger; I'm very worried about you. I think you're suffering from PTSD, hell I've known enough guys over the years that've had it, so let me rephrase that: You are suffering from PTSD. I've put up with your shit for years, and so have the rest of the guys, but you've never lost it with Bailey before. She's the one you come to when you know you can't deal with us, don't want to lash out at us; she's the one who puts you back together again. Tell me what's happened to change that."

"I don't know," I replied.

"Thank God Lester called me when he did and I was close by. Damn it, Ranger how could you hit her, stab her?"

I shrugged. "When we've fought before it always turned it always turned sexual," I said without thinking.

Antony dropped down to the floor and sat Indian style in front of me. "So are you telling me you beat the shit out of her because she's not your lover anymore, that the boundary change in your relationship fucked everything up?"

I looked at him again. "Maybe... Yeah, I think so."

He took a deep breath. "I think you need to get some help and I think you need to stay away from her for a while, Ranger."

"I know," I whispered. "I just... I've tried so hard to keep myself under control, but recently..."

Anthony reached out slowly and touched my leg. "What's going on man? What's set you off and pushed you over the edge?"

I replayed the afternoon's events over in my mind and came to one conclusion. "Stephanie," I stated.

"What?"

"Lester tell you what happened?"

Anthony nodded.

"She made me so fucking angry. Why couldn't she simply leave things alone? I wouldn't tell her about Bailey; she didn't need to know about Bailey. And what did she do? Stormed over here and stuck her nose in!"

He shook his head, "I know that you have wanted her for so long, but maybe you need to stay away from her too. She isn't doing you any favours right now. Get yourself sorted out and then maybe think about trying again with her."

My world was crashing down around my ears and it seemed that there was little I could do to stop it. "I think you're right, man."

"Come on," Anthony said sadly, "Let's get you sorted out."

He got up, slid his hands under my arms, and hauled me to my feet. I swayed but managed to keep upright. "Can I lose the cuffs yet?"

"Yeah I think so. Besides, if you try anything else I'll just fucking shoot you."

I believed him.

He released my arms, and I carefully rubbed my wrists and flexed my hands to get the blood moving again. "Where's Bailey?"

"Behind you, in bed. I need to get her to a hospital, but I don't have any I.D for her."

I turned slowly and took in the tiny form on the huge bed at the far end of the room. "What the hell did I do?" I whispered as I made my way over to her.

Her head was swathed in a field dressing, her top had gone and another army dressing was anchored over the stab wound on her shoulder. Her feet were hidden by the quilt, but I suspected that they were going to be pretty bad too. I sat down next to her on the bed and gently ran my fingers down her cheek. Tears dripped down my face and I wished that our places could be reversed. I was a total and utter bastard.

Her eyes flickered open and focused on me. "Hey," she whispered.

Anthony appeared next to me in a heartbeat. "Bailey?"

She turned to look at him and smiled. "You get the number of that truck?"

"You need a hospital, doll. Where is your stash of fake I.D's?"

"Weapons crate, top one," she murmured.

"Keys?"

"Kitchen drawer."

"Hey," I said quietly.

Bailey looked back at me, and with an unsteady hand she reached up to touch the lump on my head. "What happened to you?"

I smiled ruefully. "Anthony."

"Ahh, I thought I heard his voice before I blacked out."

"Bailey, I'm so sorry," I managed to choke out.

"I know," she said. "And so am I, Ric."

"No, don't apologize for what happened; it was not your fault."

She shook her head. "I was angry and scared, but I still had no right to take it out on you."

"It's never stopped you before," I told her with a grin. "Look, if you don't want me..."

"What are you saying, Ric?"

"I should leave."

"No. Your brother is right; you need help, but that does not mean that I hate you."

I picked up her hand and kissed her bruised knuckles. "I don't deserve your friendship."

"Well, I'm offering it anyway, so I guess you're stuck with me, Ric Manoso. You're sick, baby; let me help you get better."

Anthony dropped the lid back on the crate at the foot of the bed. "So little girl, who do you want to be today? Dervla McGuire, Aidan McLaughlin or Catherine McGowan?"

"Catherine. What's the plan, Anthony?"

"Get you to a hospital and then get my asshole of a brother sorted out."

"Which hospital do you have in mind?" I asked.

"One that doesn't ask too many questions," he said. "I know of a private clinic in D.C we could use; they should be able to make a recommendation for you as well."

"Okay. I don't want to have to do this, but could you call Tank and get him back stateside ASAP? I don't want to have to leave Bobby and Lester in a mess over in Trenton."

Anthony nodded. "Let me get the two of you sorted out and then I'll call Tank. I'll ship down to Trenton for a couple of days to help hold the fort, and I'll keep the Feds off our back until we know what we are going to do with that case too."

"Thank you," I told him.

He smiled at me for the first time today. "You'd do the same for me. I just want you better, Ranger, and enough is enough; Promise me that you'll stop running from your demons this time."

He was right. It was time to get my head sorted out; I could only run for so long. "I promise."


	8. Chapter 8

**Reality Bites**

**Chapter Eight**

**Washington D.C – 9.40PM**

I sat in the chair next to Bailey's bed and rested my calloused hand in her equally scarred one while a middle aged doctor picked bits of glass out of her feet. Her head and shoulder had been stitched and the CT had come back clear; I'd been damn lucky that I'd not done any serious damage to her.

We both had concussions, but I'd had a lot worse than the one I was suffering from right now. Bailey had lost a small patch of hair on the back of her head from where they'd put the eight stitches in and her left arm was in a sling to minimize movement to the shoulder wound. Yeah, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

She squeezed my hand tight and let out a hiss of pain, which caused the doctor to look up at her. "I'm sorry, the local must be wearing off; I've nearly finished. Just this one little bit and you'll be all sorted," he told her.

"Talk to me, Ric," Bailey murmured.

"About what?"

"I don't care, anything to take my mind off this."

I sat there in silence and tried to think of something to say to Bailey that wasn't work related or classified, or both. My cell vibrated, but I slid my hand into my pocket and hit the cancel button. Whoever it was, they could wait.

"You are so crap, Ric," Bailey muttered. "How about the weather? You can talk to me about that, yeah?"

I looked back over; her pale features were marred by ugly dark circles under her eyes. "The weather's the weather, babe. You've been working too hard again."

That got a slight smile. "I always work hard, too much to do and not enough hours in the day. The computer equipment is coming to the end of its life and I need to upgrade it soon, or I'll be working twenty-four/seven."

The Doc cleared his throat. "All finished. You're a very lucky woman, Ms. McGowan. May I suggest that next time you and your… your brother," he said as he looked suspiciously at me, "Decide to tackle an intruder in your home that you call 911 straight away instead of getting involved."

Bailey smiled sweetly. "Yes doctor, can I go now?"

The poor man frowned. "I'd rather keep you in overnight for observation…"

She let go of my hand and I helped her sit up. "I'll be fine; my brother can keep an eye on me."

"Your brother has a concussion as well," the doctor stated as he looked over the top of his glasses at us both like we were a couple of naughty children.

"Our other brother," I told him.

He flipped through Bailey's chart. "Mr Stewart?"

"Yup," she said as inspected the bandages on her feet. "Can I walk?"

"I'd rather you didn't, Ms McGowan. Not for a couple of days anyway."

"Bollocks," she muttered.

My cell rang again and I cancelled the call. "I'll go track down Anthony and your change of clothes," I told her as I gingerly got to my feet.

"I'll send a nurse in to go over the aftercare with you," the doc told her as he peeled off his gloves, tossed them in the trash and then hustled out of the room.

"Be back in a minute," I said to Bailey.

"Ranger…"

"Under your pillow, babe. There's a round chambered and the safety is on."

"Thanks."

"De nada, baby."

I found Anthony down the hall chatting to a perky looking nurse. She looked over at me as I approached and then back to Anthony, and blushed.

"Our sister needs her change of clothes," I told him as I drew level with him.

He nodded and picked up the duffle at his feet. "I'll go give her a hand. Is she all sorted?"

"Only if you don't mind babysitting a couple of invalids with concussion for the night. Oh and she can't walk either."

Anthony rolled his eyes. "Well there goes my evening."

My cell rang for the third time and I pulled it out of my pocket. One voicemail message, one missed call and another call now. Why was Joe Morelli calling me? "I need to take this," I told Anthony as I walked over to the empty waiting area, sat down and hit connect.

"Manoso?"

"Talk," I told him.

"Shit, I…"

"Is there a problem, Joe?" I asked tersely.

"Yeah, you could say that. I just ran into Steph in Pino's."

Fantastic. "And?"

"She said you guys had a disagreement…"

Rumors of which would now be half way around the damn Burg, the police station and who knows where else, because my life and Steph's life was apparently so interesting to all those small minded people. Sometimes I wished that I'd gone back down to Miami, or even up to Boston. Trenton was not my home, and there was really only one thing keeping me there right now.

"Anyway…" he continued. "I hope you don't mind, I mean I was only being a friend…"

"Get to the point, Morelli."

"Shit, there's no easy way for me to say this…"

I rested my aching head against my hand. "Joe, please."

"Steph started venting about your ex girlfriend and before I could stop her, she was yelling at me. Look Ranger, she pretty much announced to the entire clientele of Pino's that your ex is an assassin."

That sounded too crazy for words, and most people expected Steph to come out with crazy shit all the time. No one would believe her and no one knew about Bailey anyway, so no worries there. "Thanks for letting me know, Joe."

"You don't understand, Ranger, she used Bailey's name and said that she lived in the basement of your Boston building."

"Fuck!"

"Yeah, I thought you'd say that, man. That's why I've been trying to call you for the last ten minutes."

"You sure that people heard her?"

"Man, the entire restaurant heard and cell phones were out within seconds. The place was packed with cops and local mob."

"Joe, thank you for telling me this. Next time you need a favor, just give me a call."

"What are you going to do, Ranger?"

"Serious damage control," I gritted out.

Joe sighed. "Steph headed to her parents when she left."

"Why am I not surprised?" I muttered. "She's the least of my worries right now."

"She'll come around in a couple of day, she always does," Joe stated.

"Look Joe, I'm offline at the moment and I don't know when I'll be back in town; it could be a while. I need to deal with a few things and I'd appreciate it if you could keep your ear to the ground in regards to the Boston situation. Just leave a message on my cell if you hear anything I need to know about."

"No worries, Ranger."

"Joe, thank you," I said as I hung up.

I slid my phone away and closed my eyes. And I thought this day couldn't get any worse. At least Bailey was in D.C right now. We'd need to move everything out of her apartment in the next couple of hours, strip the room of its fixtures and fittings, re-paint it and shove a load of junk in it – make it look like a barely used store room. There was a chance that no one would follow up Steph's comment, but it was a chance I was not about to take. There was no way on this earth that I was going to let Bailey's location become any more compromised than it already was. Good job I had a contingency plan.

I pulled out my cell again and hit speed dial #7 for Bones at the Boston office.

He answered on the third ring. "Boss?"

"We have a problem," I stated.

"Anything to do with what when down today?" he asked.

I wasn't sure exactly what Bones knew about today; I'd scrambled the cameras when I'd arrived and when we'd all gone up to the roof to Anthony's chopper, but I wasn't sure about when Steph and Lester turned up. "Yeah, code word Crimson."

Bones coughed. "This is a drill right?"

"I wish it was, man."

"Okay, Snake and I will get onto it ASAP."

"I'll be sending Anthony over to pick some stuff up in a couple of hours. Can you make sure that anything that needs transporting is out on the roof?"

"Don't worry about it, man."

"Thanks, Bones. Can you also send out an email to all offices telling them to back up all servers and copy important data to external drives for the next couple of days until we get everything moved to its new location?"

"Consider it done. Will I see you at all over the next few days?"

"Negative, I'm off line. Go to Anthony if you have any problems that require immediate attention. You can try leaving me a message, but there's no guarantee that I'll get back to you; until Tank comes back Anthony is acting in my place."

"Sure Ranger, I better get things moving at this end."

I hung up and went to find Bailey and Anthony.

She was almost dressed and sat on the bed while Anthony pulled her socks on over the bandages that swathed her feet.

"We've got a situation," I announced as I sat back down in the chair that I'd vacated ten minutes ago.

Two sets of eyes focused on me intently.

"Morelli called me just now. Stephanie decided to go on a little rant in Pino's. She blew your name, location and profession to a room full of cops and mob, Bailey."

Bailey went white and her hand instinctively went for the gun I'd placed under her pillow. "The fucking little bitch!" she hissed.

"Shit," Anthony gritted out as he shook his head.

"I've contacted Bones and called in the code word Crimson. Anthony, you need to get back to Boston to collect Bailey's personal gear and the computer hardware ASAP," I told him.

"Where the fuck am I going to go, Ric?" Bailey whispered as she hugged her arms to her chest and clutched her gun tightly.

I moved to sit next to her on the narrow hospital bed and put my arm around her shoulders. "We'll figure something out, I promise."

Anthony pulled a card out of his back pocket. "Got a recommendation for a specialist in the Cayman Islands for you, Ranger. As much as I'd like you to spend some time by yourself for a while, it seems that it isn't going to happen. We need to stash Bailey somewhere safe until we can get something permanent set up, so it looks like you're both going on an extended vacation. By the time you've got yourself back on your feet, Ranger, we should have something State-side sorted for Bailey. You can both stay out there at my beach house near George Town for the duration."

"Fancy a holiday?" I asked Bailey.

"The servers-" she started.

"Can come with us," I told her. "We'll crash at Anthony's apartment tonight and move out in the morning."

Anthony nodded. "That's a plan. You want to use my jet?"

"That would be helpful; I don't think either of us fancies flying commercial. Thank you for everything, little brother. Oh, and by the way, you're in charge of the entire company until Tank gets back."

"Great," he muttered. "Some thanks that is."

I turned back to Bailey. "Babe, I'm sorry about all this."

"Will you get tetchy if I shoot your girlfriend?" she asked as anger flashed in her eyes.

"What girlfriend?" I growled.

"Ranger…" she whispered.

"No, damn it!" I snarled. "I will not stand for the shit she pulled today. She has compromised both you and my business and I will not take that lightly. If I forgive her for this, then what happens next time she gets in a bad mood? I can't trust her to keep secrets, which means that I have to keep more secrets; it's a never ending cycle. We all know how much she wants to know everything that goes on, which means that it's only a matter of time before she'd stick her nose into something else. Someone could get killed next time and I can't have that on my conscience."

"I'm sorry," Bailey said as she put her hand on my arm.

I kissed her gently on the forehead. "Nothing to be sorry about. Come on; let's get the hell out of here."

Anthony scooped Bailey up in his arms and slid the Glock at the small of her back.

"I just need to make a call; I'll see you both at the chopper," I said.

I dialed Ella's number; I needed to make a few changes at Rangeman Trenton.

"Ranger?"

"Ella, could you do me a favor please?"

"Anything, you know that Ranger."

"Could you move Ms. Plum's possessions to the empty apartment on the 4th floor and call the decorators in. My apartment needs a makeover."

"I can do that…"

"I want a new bed, linens, towels, furniture, hell everything including the carpets. Check with the guys; if no one wants the furniture then send it to good will."

Ella was quiet for a few beats. "Should I consult with Ms Plum over the new décor?"

"No, thank you Ella."

"Do you want me to make up the other apartment on six for you?" she asked.

"No, but Anthony will need that for a while. I'll be off line until further notice."

"I see, I'll take care of it all, Ranger. When should I expect Anthony?"

"In the next forty-eight hours."

I hung up, thankful that Ella hadn't questioned any of my demands, and set off after Anthony and Bailey. I knew that I should call Steph at some point, but I couldn't find it in myself to care right now. She had crossed the line today and I wasn't sure that I could forgive that. Ever.

She'd always known how my life was, and seemed that somehow, what I could give her wasn't enough. Well I wasn't going to be giving her anything ever again. We were done, over, finished. I was going to have to make a few changes to my life in order to get my head sorted and back on straight, and so I was going to start right now by finishing the relationship between myself and Stephanie Plum.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **This is the final chapter of this little fic. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. I doubt we've seen the last of Bailey, but for now, this is the end.

On an interesting side note, this is how I've always seen Ranger and Bailey. Way back when I wrote AFILAW in 2007 I didn't feel comfortable stepping totally out of the box and writing what I really felt should happen. I got a lot of shit for the story in the beginning, it really knocked my confidence and AFILAW changed slightly from how I'd initially planned it out in my head. I'm not sad as to how it turned out, in fact I'm, still damn proud of that fic, but in hindsight, if I'd written it today then it would have been a slightly different tale.

I like to create complex characters that toy with your emotions, and yet still try and make them believable. So for those of you that read and enjoy my work, I thank you for taking the time to leave me a review. It is always nice to know that my tale has drawn you in and kept you on the edge of your seat, because that is the whole point of storytelling and exactly what I was aiming for.

**Reality Bites**

**Chapter Nine**

**Trenton New Jersey – Four months Later**

I steered my truck into the Rangeman Trenton warehouse and cut the engine.

Bailey slid from the cab and looked around the gloom. "And you're sure that this place is secure, Ric?"

"As secure as it gets. The building is owned by a fictitious company that Anthony set up and it can't be traced to either myself or Rangeman. The only people who know of its existence are my brother and I, Lester, Bobby and Tank. We've been using it to hold any gear we need for our legally grey work, and it also doubles as an emergency command centre and store for vehicles of slightly dubious origin," I said with a grin.

"Looks like a bit of a shit hole to me," she muttered.

"Appearances can be deceptive, babe."

"Huh, right…"

"Come on," I said jovially as I guided her towards the old freight elevator in the corner. "The keycard I gave you earlier accesses the control panel; you can upgrade the security as little or as much as you like. Second floor belongs to Lester and Bobby, and you're up on the third. Just pray that my cousin and Bobby work out, otherwise you'll end up with a roommate."

She stepped aboard and smiled. "Maybe me moving in here was just the push they needed to get their shit together."

I shrugged. "Maybe, and if they make too much of a racket just bang on the floor."

We rode up to her floor and I studied her as she stood there in silence; a few months in the sun had done her deathlike complexion the world of good. I hauled the gates open when the car came to a stop. "This way if you will, madam," I teased as I ushered her out into the open plan living area.

She walked into the centre of the room and turned around in a circle, taking in the huge apartment. "Not bad."

"And if you'll come this way I'll show you the spacious master bed with ensuite bath. The previous owner is looking to lease the apartment with the furniture, but I can assure you that it has been thoroughly fumigated since he moved out."

Bailey punched me on the arm. "I'll tell Lester you said that."

I laughed, "And you would, wouldn't you, you minx?"

She entered the bedroom and sat down on the bed. "It's good to hear you laugh, Ric."

I sank down next to her on top of the comforter, "It's nice to be able to laugh again, babe. Seems like I've spent too long in the shadows, and it felt like I had nothing to laugh about."

Bailey reached over and squeezed my hand. "Life's good, Ric."

"I know, well it will be when I've finished putting the last of my demons to rest in an hour, anyway."

"Stephanie?" she asked.

"Yeah, I need closure and I'm sure she does too," I said with a sigh.

"Where are you meeting her?"

I laughed. "At the local park by the duck pond. It was her choice and I'm grateful that we're not about to have the conversation in Pino's. Least this way whatever we say to each other will take a couple of days to hit the gossip mongers."

"Help me empty the truck and you can get moving," she said as she stood.

"Fair enough. So, you have any plans for later?"

Bailey smiled. "Not a lot; what about you?"

"I'm thinking of inviting my girlfriend over for dinner at around six; that'll give the evening shift something to talk about in the command centre," I replied with a grin.

"Girlfriend, eh?" Bailey teased.

"What?" I said defensively.

Bailey giggled and flopped backwards on the bed. "Nothing."

"What?" I growled.

"You told me before we left for the Caymans that you were going to become a monk."

"Yeah well, that was before I pulled my head out of my ass," I muttered.

"Tell me, Ric, is she pretty?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Smart?"

I smiled. "Smarter that I am."

"Does she make you laugh?"

"Definitely."

"Do you trust her?"

"With my life," I said without missing a beat.

"That's good to hear," Bailey said with a grin. "If you have an appointment with the ex, and a dinner date, you better get moving, boy. Come on, I've got crates and crates of gear to shift."

"Typical woman; do you really need all that junk?"

"For your information, Mr. Manoso," Bailey groused as she sat up and poked me in the ribs, "fifty percent of those crates are Rangeman property, forty percent contain weapons, and the remaining ten are my meager possessions. And besides, don't you start with that stereotype crap; I only own one pair of sexy shoes, one handbag and one pant suit."

"And no sexy lingerie either," I teased.

"Watch it Ric, for a man who owns fewer pairs of boxer shorts than I do, you're skating on thin ice."

I dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Less insults, more unpacking; I have an errand to run as well."

Bailey snapped me a mock salute. "Yes sir!"

"Smart ass."

* * *

I arrived at the park ten minutes early, and was seated on a bench by the pond when Steph turned up fifteen minutes later. She stopped a few feet away, stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat and bit her lip.

I stood up to greet her. "Hey."

"Ranger," she said with a nod.

We both sat down on the bench and a couple of ducks wandered over to see if we had any offerings for them.

"So…" she began.

I turned to face her. "Thank you for meeting with me."

Stephanie shrugged.

I clasped my hands together and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for the way I ended things; I had to leave the country."

"Right," she said with a snort. "So that was why you broke up with me by letter, and got your house keeper to throw me out of your apartment."

I looked into her eyes. "I'm not lying to you, Steph, I was out of the country; I left the day after you came to Boston and didn't get back until early this morning. I went for counseling; I've been suffering from PTSD and I couldn't control myself any longer. I had to get myself better before I really hurt someone."

"Oh."

"I'm not sorry for the shitty way I moved you out of my apartment; I'd just heard that my Boston building and one of my staff had been compromised. I know that the adult thing to do would have been to call you, but I'd just been informed that you'd disclosed the location of Bailey to half the Trenton P.D. It was a knee jerk reaction, but in the long run not one that I regret. I hope you can understand my actions, Stephanie."

Steph shook her head. "Where did we go wrong, Ranger?"

"I'm as secretive by nature as you are curious. There will always be elements of my life that I can't talk about and it is imperative that my partner understands and respects that."

She nodded. "I know, and for what it's worth, I'm sorry about the problems I caused in Boston with the government."

I shrugged. "By the time the FBI got a warrant and stormed the building there was nothing to find."

"Bailey was gone?"

I smiled. "Bailey was long gone, and so was the apartment. The Feds found nothing but a half empty storage room. So, you think we can ever be friends again?"

Stephanie shook her head. "I don't know, Ranger; you hurt me a hell of a lot."

"And you hurt me, Steph. You betrayed me, endangered my staff and my business. Still, what's done is done. If nothing else, it made me face my demons, so I guess I'm thankful for that if nothing else."

"Do we have anything left to talk about Ranger?" she asked bitterly.

"I guess not," I said with a sigh. "I've moved on, I'm dating again. And I hear that you've met someone new."

"Clean break, fresh start and all that," she said with a sad smile.

I got to my feet. "Exactly, well I hope that you're happy together. Call me if you ever need to talk."

"I'll think about it."

I dropped my hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "Try not to go too crazy, Steph."

"And try not to get shot, Ranger," she called out as I walked away.

* * *

I'd not been back in my apartment long when the phone rang.

"Talk."

"Boss, umm…"

"What is it Hal?"

"There's a woman here looking for you."

"What does she look like?"

"Blonde, dressed in a suit. Says her name is Amanda Dawson; she has a posh English accent."

I bit back a smile. "Let her up to seven, Hal."

I put the phone down and went to open my apartment door. The elevator rose up from first floor and after what felt like an eternity, the doors slid open.

A stunning blonde with designer wire rimmed glasses that perched on the end of her nose smiled at me and stepped out. Her charcoal grey suit was exquisitely tailored and her three inch pumps and matching shoulder bag were Gucci.

"Ric, darling," she purred as she stepped up to me in the doorway.

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her passionately, before drawing her into my apartment and kicking the door shut with my boot.

We broke apart, both breathing heavily, she giggled and I grinned at her. "Nice outfit, babe. We're gonna have to watch that dye job; your roots will be showing in a couple of weeks and we can't have that."

"I'm still not sure about the color," she said quietly. "I'm so used to the black."

I shrugged and walked over to the breakfast bar. "I like the blonde, I think it suits you; you look less intense. The outfit is great too; but it's still going to take some time to get used to seeing you in a suit."

"Yeah, it hides my tattoos. I don't care what you say; I'm not getting them removed."

"Fine, the ink can stay, I've always found them sexy anyway; just don't let anyone see them."

"Yeah, no worries. Can I borrow your black Amex? I think I need a few more business suits for my wardrobe. What am I supposed to be again?"

"I thought we'd decided that my new girlfriend was supposed to be a lawyer."

She frowned. "You realize how much work is involved in setting up a fake background for a freaking lawyer? I always wanted to be an interior designer when I was a kid, how about that instead?"

I tugged her towards me by the front of her jacket. "Do I look like I care what you allegedly do for a living? As long as I can take you out in public without you getting arrested by the FBI, I don't mind. Just make something up, and make sure you do a good job in case someone in the government decides to do some digging."

She growled. "Watch it, Ric. I do know what I'm doing."

I slid my hands to her ass and pulled her flush against me. "You feel that? I'd say you know exactly what you're doing."

She laughed. "Why Mr. Manoso, is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?"

I coughed. "Both, actually; let me lose the Sig."

She smirked, slid one hand into my pocket, pulled out the Sig and popped the mag without even looking at what she was doing. "Wouldn't want it to go off by accident," she whispered as she set my hardware down on the counter.

I licked my lips. "No babe, we wouldn't want that."

"Mustn't forget your other gun," she teased as she unfastened the button on my cargos, slid the zipper down and brushed her fingers over my cock. "Forget what I said earlier about your underwear, I don't think you should wear any, ever."

I nodded to the Victoria's Secret bag on the counter next to me. "I only got you those so I could rip them off you. I can't date a woman that owns less underwear than I do."

"You want me to model them for you, Ric?" she teased.

I slowly unfastened the buttons on her jacket and black silk blouse. "You can show me later, I have other plans for you right now."

She laughed. "Do they involve low fat yogurt or a bag of ice cubes?"

"No," I murmured as I stripped off her jacket and blouse, popped her bra open and ran my fingers over the tattoos that spiraled over her collar bone and left breast.

She shivered as I dropped a kiss to the still pink knife wound on her shoulder.

"It's fine, baby," she assured me.

"I know, but I'll never stop saying sorry for hurting you," I told her.

She stripped down to nothing but a thong and her heels, and tossed her glasses on the counter. "Shut the hell up, Manoso. We've discussed this a million times and I've told you to stop saying sorry. Now quit brooding and get naked."

I peeled off my t-shirt. "I do not brood."

"Good to hear."

My boots and socks came next. "I don't."

"Right…"

I stepped out of my cargos and stood there naked in front of her. "Are you teasing me, babe?"

"I'd never tease a naked man, Ric," she murmured as she pressed her body up against mine. "Especially one as well equipped as you are."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," I whispered as I slid my arms around her.

"Yeah? Show me."

I scooped her up in my arms, stalked into my bedroom and tossed her onto the middle of my bed. The sight of her naked and in my bed nearly brought me to my knees. "Shit," I murmured, "I can't believe I've never had you in my bed before now; I want to wake up next to you every morning."

She smiled and beckoned me towards her. "I only live across town now; I can stay over whenever you like."

I pulled off her shoes and panties, and crawled over her. "Good."

"You done getting emotional on me, Ric?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

She trailed her nails over my nipples, down across my ribs and then up my thighs. "Fuck me."

I slid my hand between her legs and she arched her body up towards me. "Patience," I said with a smile.

"Fuck that," she growled as she caught me by surprise, flipped me over onto my back and straddled my groin.

"Hey," I gasped as I pinched her nipples roughly in retaliation.

She eased herself down on my cock and we both let out a moan. "I think you've met your match," she breathed as she began to move slowly.

"Oh yeah, I agree," I replied as I sat up and grabbed a hold of her hips. That way I had more control over her movements, and I picked up her pace.

She ground her body hard against mine and let out a gasp. "Oh shit, that feels so fucking good."

Her nails dug into my shoulders, her head was tipped back, and I bit down on her neck as I slammed up inside her brutally. "Come for me," I murmured against her sweat slicked skin.

"Oh fuck," she moaned as our bodies slammed together repeatedly, rubbing against her clit as we moved together.

She was so close, and so was I. With one final powerful thrust I sent her spiraling over the edge, her walls tightened around me, and my own orgasm followed hot on the heels of hers.

I collapsed backwards to the bed, and pulled her with me.

She landed on my chest and dropped a swift kiss on my nipple. "Did I tell you recently that I love you?" she asked quietly.

I smiled and kissed her blonde curls. "I'm not sure."

"I love you."

"Good to hear, babe; I love you too."

"Took you long enough to realize," she said with a laugh.

I rolled us onto our sides so I could look into her eyes. "I've loved you for a very long time."

"Right… Since when?"

I grinned. "Probably since you shoved your knee in my balls back in that motel room in Phoenix. I was at a bad place in my life back then, I didn't do relationships…"

She laughed. "I was fucking your brother-"

I cut her off. "God, woman, don't talk about my brother while we're in bed together."

"Oh shut up, it's the truth. And don't worry, I'm not going to start taking notes, or making comparisons."

"I should damn well hope not," I growled.

"Still, it took you long enough to come to my bed, Ric."

I sighed. "I didn't think I had anything to offer you."

"I only wanted you, what you had to offer was enough for me. Still, I'm just glad that you've finally come to your senses."

"Back then my head was a mess and don't think I had a heart; I used you and-"

"You used me no more than I used you. There is no price for what we give each other; I told you that the first time you were in my bed."

I kissed her gently. "Do you want to know the main reason why I kept you at arms length?"

"Do tell."

"You tackle life head on, nothing ever daunts you, you're loyal, smart and totally insane. I knew that if I let myself, I could so easily fall in love with you and that scared the hell out of me."

"I could say the same about you, Ric," she said with a smile. "Now enough of this emotional bullshit; I didn't come here for that."

I laughed. "What did you come here for?"

"This," she said with a grin as she squeezed my cock.

"Lingerie's still in the kitchen."

She rolled off the bed with cat like grace and headed towards the kitchen, then stopped in the doorway and turned back to look at me. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere."

"I don't plan on it, ever," I whispered.

**THE END**


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